Old Enemies, New Allies
by Thunderman88
Summary: Post-DH. A strange figure recruits Horace Slughorn and Ron Weasley to defeat Gellert Grindelwald's lieutenant, now seeking revenge and powerful artifacts. But shall they survive unscathed? And who is Robert Walshingham? Please review!
1. Chapter 1

Ok, this is my first HP fanfic. I was always intrigued with Grindelwald, and I wanted him to have a better legacy than "second best Dark Wizard". That's where I got started for this story.

I don't own any canon HP characters, JKR does.

Chapter 1 : Remembering

_The Burrow, March 1__st__ 2001_

"I have to admit, Harry, your idea of a reunion party was great!" said enthusiastically Horace Slughorn, broader and balder than ever, to Harry Potter, the Boy-Who-Lived and the Hero-Who-Vanquished-The-Dark-Lord, now one of the most renowned Aurors of the time. Harry shrugged. "It was just an idea. But it's great to see a lot of friends all together. We need some happiness!" His gaze wandered on the crowd : Ron was scowling, looking at Viktor Krum talking to Hermione (she had assured him that he was merely a friend now, but unsurprisingly he wasn't convinced), Mr. Weasley was busy talking to Kingsley (here as a friend, not as Minister) about some Muggle things, a lot of ex-Hogwarts students and teachers were happily chatting. Slughorn nodded. "Hear, hear! I could swear, my boy, you look like your dad, but I'll be damned if your personality is not a carbon copy of your mother's!"

Smiling peacefully, Slughorn strode proudly around; he had never felt happier. Since Voldemort's defeat not only everything was alright, but his need to hide and avoid Death Eaters was gone, and his influence was flourishing another time. He had fought the ghosts of the past when he had given Harry his real memory of Riddle asking him about Horcruxes, taking away a lot of remorse and guilt from his conscience; and he had proven the magical world when he had dueled Voldemort himself together with Shacklebolt and McGonagall he was not an old, rotten puppeteer who only cared about staying in the shadows while spreading his influence. He sipped some of his Firewhisky, sighing.

He should have known it wouldn't last. He slowly turned around, intending to go fetch some cake, and suddenly he felt like the air had been forcibly removed from his lungs. Because standing there before him was a very tall wizard, with long brown hair and a short beard, with fiery blue eyes who was smiling at him. For a moment, he felt like he had lost his mental sanity, and whispered : "Daniel…?" The stranger shook his head. "Not such luck. I'm his son, Robert!" Relief and joy filled him, and he breathed. "Merlin's beard, you scared me! If that's a way to make your presence known…" But just then, Arthur Weasley came, a frown on his face. "Excuse me, would you mind telling me what is your name and what are you doing here?" he asked, eyeing the stranger suspiciously. Robert merely looked at Slughorn, who coughed one or two times and told Arthur : "Don't worry, Arthur, he's the son of a dear friend of mine. He's alright." Arthur gave Robert another look, then shrugged. Robert then said : "Thanks, Horace. But I have no problem telling you who I am and what am I doing here, Mr. Weasley. My name is Robert Walshingham, and I'm here because I need to talk to him!" Horace felt a shiver running down his spine, and he went pale. "Robert… I hope it's just a silly idea… but I hope it's not because… because of…" Robert looked at him apologetically. "I'm afraid it is, Horace. He is back."

Slughorn managed to break into an inarticulate sound, then he did something very appropriate. He fainted.

-

Sometime later, he regained consciousness in a surge of energy and fear, opening his eyes and sitting up in a rush. He was in a couch, and around him were the Order members : Harry, the Weasleys, the Granger girl, Shacklebolt, Longbottom, Lovegood, McGonagall and Robert Walshingam, who was eyeing him strangely. "Horace, you alright? You've passed out for almost two hours! The party's over, and the others have gone home." Said McGonagall, who had a preoccupied frown on her face. Slughorn sighed; now he didn't give a damn about the party. He was thinking about what Robert had said him. He looked up at him and merely asked : "Are you sure?" He shrugged. "Would I came here and say something like that if I weren't be sure?" Slughorn moaned and closed his eyes, bringing a hand on his forehead. Harry spoke up : "Excuse me, but would you mind explaining what is going on? He just said he told you that someone was back, but refused to say more, declaring that you may prefer privacy…"

Slughorn sighed, then shook his head. "No, I guess I can tell you. He" and he nodded to Robert, "is the son of Daniel Walshingham, my late best friend. Great man, and very powerful wizard. We… well…" "Maybe it's better if I go on telling you what happened!" intervened Robert. "In 1968 my father, Horace and another wizard named Bilius Weasley" He smiled briefly at the shocked gasps from everyone in the room, excluding himself and Horace, "fought and defeated a Dark Wizard!" "Bilius?" echoed Mr. Weasley, gobsmacked. Robert nodded. "Yes, your late brother. I'm afraid that one of the reasons he was so odd in his last years was the fact he had contributed in the downfall of one of the most dangerous wizards of our time, and unfortunately that is something that is impossible to survive unscathed, if you're not made of steel!" "And who did they face?" asked Harry, getting directly to the point. Robert sighed and closed his eyes. "The Dark Wizard I'm talking about was one of Gellert Grindelwald lieutenants, perhaps his most loyal and trusted ally, but most assuredly the most powerful; I think he was just a little bit less powerful than his master, but of course Grindelwald had the Elder Wand, so that was never a problem!" "You know about the Elder Wand?" exclaimed Hermione, shocked. Slughorn spoke up. "Of course; his father knew, he was a close friend of Dumbledore, for obvious reasons!" "Exactly; you know that Grindelwald was defeated by Dumbledore in 1945, but even if nearly all of Grindelwald's henchmen and allies were rounded up and sent to Azkaban, this guy, named Erich Rommell, managed to stay free." Hermione frowned. "Rommell… I already know this name!" "You might; he's the younger brother of Germany's most known and successful soldier of World War II, Erwin Rommell." He sighed, then went on : "But unfortunately he was very different from his brother. Erwin, as cunning as a fox, was a man of honor, and was disgusted by the regime Germany had; he nonetheless remained faithful and served loyally until he was forced to commit suicide. His little brother shared his great cunning and intelligence, but not the honor. He was the most ruthless of Grindelwald's supporters, and personally took care of those who tried to oppose him…" Robert closed his eyes, then he murmured : "One of them was my uncle, Keith Walshingham; now you should understand why my father wanted to find out what happened to Rommell when he eluded capture and disappeared."

Kingsley said : "Well, I think I understand. But I don't understand why there's nothing about him in the Archives… the Ministry should be informed…" "The Ministry IS informed, Minister!" Robert interrupted him, a sarcastic tone in his voice. "But the information was so 'disturbing', that it was decided to keep it locked up. You would be surprised on discovering how many things the Ministry had covered up!"

He laughed briefly, then he sighed again. "Well, at least my father found out that Rommell was trying to carry out his master's plans; he was trying to find traces of some ancient magical artifacts, with which he hoped to overpower anyone who could stand a chance against him, normally. So, he went to Dumbledore."

"Why didn't Albus take charge of everything?" asked McGonagall. "You see, he half wanted to, but my dad objected, and he managed to convince him to stay at Hogwarts for two reasons : one, he was mentally and psychologically exhausted from his duel with Grindelwald, and second, father wanted to keep someone with the power to match Rommell in reserve. Instead, he proposed to rally a selected strike force, with which to frustrate his plans and to stop him, if there was a way. Albus approved, and my father began his quest." "And your father chose HIM?" said Harry, looking at Slughorn. Robert smiled. "I know Horace look like someone who only wants to stay out of trouble and to get some crystallized pineapple, but since Dumbledore was to stay in reserve, he was the obvious choice. Albus always thought Horace was perhaps the most skilled wizard after himself, and so did my father. So, he tracked down Horace and spoke to him. At first, as you can imagine, Horace was a little bit… reluctant." Everyone chuckled, even Slughorn himself. "But then, father managed to convince him. Then he went and recruited what he felt was the last piece of the puzzle : Bilius." "But how did he choose him?" exclaimed Molly, puzzled as everyone else at the mention of her brother-in-law. "You figure him as he was when he was old and broken down from what he had faced, but my father said that before everything that happened he was just… different. Just a little bit. But he did hate Dark Wizards, and Rommell in a special way : he had killed the only girl he could fall in love with. So, even before father had ended, he was in." He grinned at the shock on their faces. "Oh, yes. From what I know, there was this girl, Elaine McAlister, who managed to strike a chord inside good ol' Bilius; they should have married, if she hadn't stumbled upon Rommell and he caught the occasion to kill her."

There was a pause in the conversation, as everyone was trying to get the news to sink in, then Robert sat on the couch alongside Slughorn and went on. "So, my father chose his two companions and then had his team. It was Bilius who, in an absurd display of humour, dubbed them…" "…The 'Highlands Rangers'!" finished Slughorn, with a smirk. After a moment, everyone burst out laughing. "That's the dumbest name I've ever heard!" declared George, wiping the tears from his eyes. Robert was smiling broadly. "I agree, but no one was able to find a better name, so it stuck. And then, the three Highlands Rangers set off to deliver the magical people and the Muggles from peril! I won't say everything they did, or what did they face, it would be too long, but at last they faced Rommell for the final fight. The duel was declared by onlookers as comparable to the one that Dumbledore fought against Grindelwald. My father, Horace and Bilius were seriously injured, Bilius got a bad spell in his head that disrupted his mental equilibrium, already wavering since the death of Elaine, but they made it. Erich Rommell was defeated, but more importantly his power source he had used to become alarmingly powerful was broken. He was forced to flee, leaving behind an arm and an eye, but alive. And the three heroes returned home, licking their wounds." "Licking their wounds?" exploded Horace, standing up and with such a rage in his voice that everyone stared. "It's easy for you to say that! He was incredibly powerful, the bastard one, and we barely managed to get out of there alive! I had to wait two months before to declare I had recovered completely. Your father wasn't much better off, and Bilius… well, Bilius was never the same! So much for licking our wounds!" Robert merely stared at him. "I was there when my father returned. I barely recognized him. So I pretty much figured out what happened, Horace. But that's not the point; we've been avoiding this since we started to talk. Rommell is back, and he wants revenge. Obviously along with victory, crushing his enemies and triumphing over the magical world. So, the question is : will you help me?" Everyone stared at him. Kingsley spoke up : "Excuse me, but I think the Ministry can…" "The only thing you can do, Minister, is keeping your employees out of my way, I don't want any amateur tripping on his feet and alerting Rommell he's watched over. This is a thing that only the professionals can do!" He looked at Slughorn and said : "My father always said that you weren't the one who could leave when the need arose. He would have trusted upon you his life; now a lot of innocent lives are at stake. And you have the power and the experience to protect them. What do you say?"

Slughorn looked at the wizard : at forty-one he looked exactly like his father. The fire in his eyes was the same Daniel had displayed in so many occasions. The cloak he was wearing was the same Daniel had worn for all the time during their mission. He closed his eyes, and the emotions he had felt then rushed through him another time… fear, determination, rage… friendship. He felt a sudden urge to go back to his house, eat a large portion of his pineapple, and go to bed without thinking anymore about Rommell. He then opened his eyes and nodded decisively at Robert. "Okay, okay, I'm definitely mad, but yes, I'll help you!" Robert grinned broadly. "Wonderful!"

Just then, Ron, who had been silent all the time, strode forward and said matter-of-factly : "If you want me, I'm in, too!" "What?!" The shocked and outraged shriek was from Hermione. Ron turned around and looked at his girlfriend with sadness but determination. "Listen, Hermione, I know it could sound mad, but since I saw him," and he pointed to Robert, "I felt something. I couldn't put my finger on it, but now I realize it. It's not the fact I share with my uncle his name, it's not the fact I have to prove something or other rubbish; I feel I have to do it. I feel I have to go and complete what my uncle started. Call it whatever you want, I know I'm doing the right thing." He turned to Robert. "Of course, if you want me!" Robert had a strange smile on his lips. "Well, I was going to ask you myself, but I have no need to do it!" His right hand disappeared under his cloak, and when reappeared, it held a wand. Ron stared at it. "Is that…?" "Yes; your uncle's wand; 13'', elm, unicorn hair, quite flexible. It went into my possession after he died, but now I feel it's better if you have it!"And he gave it to him. Then, he looked at Horace, who looked pale, but who sustained his glare unyieldingly, and then at Ron, who was looking at him forcefully. Robert Walshingham nodded, and declared : "Well, ladies and gentlemen, I guess I can present you the new Highlands Rangers!"

-

Very well, I can explain everything. Ron is kinda my favorite character, he's got more strength than people normally thinks and he's going to demonstrate it. I like Slughorn, and I think he's one of the best wizards in the HP universe, regarding skill and magical power. So, here's the reason for their recruitement.

But don't worry, other reasons shall be given, with some interesting stories about Bilius…

If any of you feels like reviewing, be my guest! ^_^


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter two is finally on! Sorry for the delay, and enjoy!

Chapter Two : Explaining

_High Hoyland, Yorkshire, 4th May 2001_

"Maybe you have had enough glasses!" "Damn you, just say you don't like to hear what I'm sayin', don't try an' make me a drunkard, man! You know it's true!" The bartender looked uncomfortably at the middle-aged dark haired man with a ragged appearance that was looking at him with spirited eyes above his empty glass. "Merlin's eyeballs, they can say they're doin' their job, but they shoulda look between 'em before going and ruining the life of someone who never dreamt of takin' over the freakin' world!" He snatched another glass of Firewhisky from the reluctant bartender, took a gulp, then went on : "How many families in that blaster Wizengamot were involved in Dark Magic activities? Simple : all of 'em! Yet, did they got a well-deserved kick in their back after the War? Nooo! All they got was a 'Don't do that again!', and nothin' else! But we that were forced to do somethin' that wasn't right, things we didn't come beggin' to do, we are 'red-flagged suspects', and so no more jobs for you, scoundrel!"

The rambling was starting to annoy the others who sat in the pub, apart from a small man who had listened, apparently without reaction. He stood up, and with his goatee stuck high in a pompous way, he went to the man's side and declared : "You, sir, are nearly drunk. Some fresh air shall help!" At the same time, he put on the counter some money and made a gesture to the bartender, who shrugged, content to see someone taking care of that wreck of a man. Even the others relaxed visibly.

Passing an arm on the ragged man's shoulders, the small one guided him out of the room, in the fresh air of the incoming summer. The drunkard inspired, then he sighed. "Aw, man, I knew I shouldn't start talkin' like that. But right now, some whisky is the only thing that helps!" "I get you are quite unhappy with the new Ministry's stance against Dark Magic suspects." his companion commented. The other snorted. "Well, maybe I put it hard, but every single word I said it's true! They want to pass as the heroes of the century, since they defeated the Dark Lord and won the War, but in the end, nothing really changes, they're as complacent with the old 'traditions' as any other Ministry!" The goateed man rubbed his chin, then he murmured : "So, you wouldn't be too shocked to see it collapse!" "Of course not! I would be there sayin' 'Serves you right!'" That strong phrase was well liked by the small man, who smiled and said : "Then, perhaps, you could understand the requests of someone... who would be quite more reasonable about your merits, my friend!" The drunkard looked at him suspiciously. "What do you mean? Are you... one of those Death Eater's fan that are bein' rounded up all over...?" "No, no, my man, I'm no Death Eater. Although I must admit... me, and some dear friends of mine, aren't really happy with this new Ministry. And since you aren't either, maybe our views aren't that much... different!"

The ragged man scratched his head. "Well... maybe... Aw, but I'm not interested, only things that matters now for me, is finding somewhere to stay... and a way to get some Galleons, 'cause I'm a little short on funds!" A hand disappeared in a cloak, and re-emerged with a small leather bag that let out a metallic sound, and a piece of paper. "Allow me to help you... and allow me to give you an advice... read carefully the paper, and maybe you will find plenty of job!" With that, he put the bag and the piece of paper in the ragged man's hand, turned around, and swirled while Disapparating. The ragged man looked down at the bag, then at the point where Mr. Goatee had left, then he turned around and walked away.

"Well done, Fatty, well done! That was a masterpiece!" Slughorn, with his hair now returning white and his trademark moustache springing out as the Polijuice Potion wore off, merely shrugged. "It was not that difficult. You know, it's easier to fool people if you make them think you're single-minded and things like that. But as you saw, I have a lot of other qualities people doesn't know about!" "Yeah. Never figured one of that would be acting." Ron's voice was dripping with sarcasm. He went on : "And I still can't figure out why you accept that stupid nickname!" Robert put an arm around his reluctant shoulders. "Ahh, that's just because my dad chose it, as it chose your uncle's, so I guess guarantee is over by now!" "Ok, just tell me why I'm stuck with Red and you can pass with Ace!" "Don't try it, it doesn't work that way, pitifully!" Horace intervened, giving the red-haired man a compassionate look. Robert then declared : "Ok, enough with screwing around! We have a mission to do! Our dear Mr. Goatee after a few evenings hearing our Chief Actor decided he was delusional enough to earn a single ticket to where they meet and decide which way they are going to conquer the Magical world, in three days. Of course, they are going to search him for a tracking spell and stuff like that, BUT..." And then he dramatically gave a devilish grin, while the others rolled their eyes, fed up with his shenanigans, "they are NOT going to detect THIS tracking spell my father taught me, which is precisely devised for people who'd rather not have it detected. So, Fatty goes to the party, and we discreetly follow him!" Ron lifted two fingers in a sign of mock respect. "Excuse me, Ace, and then what the heck do we do there? There are gonna be at least twenty, or even more, Rommell's lackeys; and as much as you've taught me spells after spells, still I don't think we're capable enough to take down that much of them! Or do you have some hidden ace we could use?" Ace nodded approvingly. "Excellent analysis of the situation, Red. You know, your girlfriend is right, you should train under a Chess Grandmaster, and in two weeks you would have your card with the title yourself! Anyway, I do have an ace : a spell which creates a sonic boom in a forty-feet area, with devastating effects. Problem is, it's a single-shot spell, after I use it, they're gonna protect themselves from that kind of an attack, it's quite simple. But I've got other tricks, so it's not that much. What do you say?" Fatty shrugged and said : "Well, I only hope you're going to show me how to protect myself from your spell, because I'd rather not have my eardrums blasted off!" Red said thoughtfully : "It could work. It would give us an enormous advantage at the beginning, but we must be careful for someone of them protected for something like this, because there are a few protective spells that could shield you from these effects, at least partially!" "Agreed. Did you understand, Fatty? Since you're going to be on the field, you'll have to take care of those who aren't going to fall; then it's going to be a cakewalk!"

_Undisclosed location, 7th May 2001_

"It worked. They're here, without even suspecting what's going to fall on their heads!" Red whispered disbelievingly, watching from the edge of the woods the group of men assembled aound a fire. Robert grunted and said : "Oh ye of little faith. Shut up and prepare yourself; as soon as I'm through with the scanning, just to see if they got any sentinels around there, I'm dropping the bomb, then it's traction city. You get it?" Ron nodded, and Robert began to move his wand in a circular motion, murmuring some words. When it was pointing at their left, he suddenly stopped and lifted his head, alarmed. "What?" Red asked. "Men. At least a dozen. Massed, about one hundred feet away, nine o'clock." Ron grimaced. "What the heck does that mean? If they're sentinels, they should be dispersed around, not massed in a single spot!" "Agreed. Which means they're not sentinels. And I would bet my head it's not a reserve hidden because they busted our game." The red-haired man nodded. "Then, we must discover who the hell they are and what are they doing here!" Robert approved, and moving silently, both after having Disillusioned themselves, they approached the spot where those men were hidden.

Soon, they spotted them; more or less fifteen men, they were wearing dark robes, to make themselves difficult to spot from the darkness, but they had no distinct signs as to identify them. "Blast it, what do we do?" Ron hissed, irritated. Robert thought for a moment, then answered lowly : "We better wait another few minutes; maybe they're going to blow up their intentions, and..."

But he couldn't go on; one of the strangers had gotten up and shouted : "NOW!" while sending a flashing spell in the air. The air soon filled with the light of differing spells and with the sounds of shouts and screams. "Damn it all! LET'S GO!" roared Ace, and he ran towards the clearing, wand at the ready, followed immediately by Red. The battle was already fierce, but unfortunately most of Rommell's men had a protection spell against those types of attacks, so few of them had been blinded; now they were fighting to the last with the mysterious aggressors. The two Rangers ran towards the center of the melee, shoving away four Dark Wizards that tried to stop them, and reached Slughorn, who, his cover blown, was under attack from other three enemies. Ace and Red quickly dispatched them, and Fatty took advantage of that by shouting : "What the hell happened? Who the hell are these guys?" "I don't know. Less questions and more fighting, Merlin's pants!" Robert answered springing forward to attack two enemies.

The battle raged for twenty minutes, but the damage had been done. Almost all of Rommell's henchmen escaped, leaving behind only two of the slowest and the whole bunch of guys they had called there for recruiting. And of course, the victors were divided in two groups, the strangers, and the three Highland Rangers, with wands drawn. The man who had started the attack stepped forwards and thundered : "In the name of Merlin, who the heck are you?" "I might have asked the same thing!" answered Robert, angry. Another man suddenly gasped and lowered his wand, exclaiming : "That's Ronald, the son of Arthur Weasley. Chief, they're with us!" Ron was surprised. "What the... wait, this voice... Dawlish?" The middle-aged Auror took off his hood and came closer. The others slowly lowered their wands, as did Robert and Slughorn. The Chief imitated Dawlish and revealed his face. Slughorn said : "Gawain Robards, lad! What are you doing here?" The Chief Auror shrugged and said : "We were trying to infiltrate those creeps, and we knew they would meet up here. So, we set an ambush." "Quite an ambush you've set up!" Robert said angrily. "You've ruined our operations; we would have got them by the hip, but you screwed up everything! Congratulations! Was this your idea, which succeeded in wasting all our efforts like few things could have, Mr. Robards?" The elder Auror's face went darker and his wand trembled. "No, Mr. Walshingham. It was the Minister's idea!" Ace's face went priceless as he let out such a word that made Ron whistle in admiration and made Slughorn's face redder than ever.

_The Burrow, a few minutes later_

"Oh, I am so going to get him!" Robert was striding furiously towards the lights of the Weasley home, followed by his preoccupied teammates. When they were near, Ron surpassed Robert with some difficulty and knocked briefly. Answering the door was Arthur Weasley, who smiled on seeing his son. "Ronald! What a surprise! What are you...?" But he was cut short when Robert growled in a menacing tone : "Out of my way!" And roughly shoved him aside to enter, followed by Ron and Horace, who gave an apologetic look at the startled Arthur.

The tall man arrived in the kitchen, with quite a lot of people inside. Apart from the Weasleys and Harry, of course, there were some friends, but the only thing that meant something was that the Minister of Magic was there. "What the _hell_ did you have in mind?" Robert began, planting his fists on his hips, and sending Shacklebolt a furious gaze that would have melted iron. But the Minister was tougher than iron. "I'm afraid I'm not aware of what you are speaking about!" he replied with coolness. "Robert..." tried Ron, putting his hand on his shoulder, but the wizard went on nonetheless : "Then I shall tell exactly what you did, Minister : after having said to you clearly I didn't want interference and I wanted to work alone with my team, and after having received your word that I was clear to act, which I actually thought meant something for you, you did exactly the opposite : you sent a team of Aurors to infiltrate the enemy's camp and by doing so ruined an occasion that I'm quite doubtful it will represent itself!" The temperature went ice-cold and hot at the same time as everyone went aghast, disbelieving that anyone could speak in these terms to the Minister, while Robert's and Kingsley's gaze went harder than ever. The latter countered in an irritated voice : "May I remind you that as Minister, I have a duty to protect the people I swore an oath to give shelter from Dark Wizards?" "That's perfectly sound, Minister. But the best thing to do in this particular situation would be leaving the Aurors to protect strategic locations, and letting us Highland Rangers to do the hard work!" Shacklebolt's voice dripped with sarcasm : "Oh, you think you can manage better than a whole field team of highly-trained Aurors?" Robert laughed scornfully. "That's bull. Your precious Aurors in our meeting did only one thing : screwed up badly. Because the difference between they and us, is that we know the enemy we're facing, and they're not. So they better not get in our way!" The Minister went rigid, and for the first time serious irritation tinged his voice. "Let's talk clearly, Mr. Walshingham. After some research, everything I read about your father in the archives is that he got the job done, but with large use of some Dark Magic and other questionable proceedings; that's not a good reference, and apart from Mr. Slughorn's vouch for you, I have nothing, and I repeat, nothing to let me have a great trust of you and your methods. So, please, would you tell me why do you think you can handle the situation better than the whole Auror Department?"

This time, both Ron and Slughorn eyed Robert worriedly, but he broke out in a strange smile, then went in the dark hallway and he began to take off his cloak and his shirt. When he finished, he stepped up in the light and simply said : "Do you think this is enough?"

No one could answer, because everyone apart from Horace and Ron was horror-stricken. The robes had showed a large, muscled chest and arms, but at the same time his chest was full of scars; and what was worse, those scars were lined up regularly. "What... how..." the Minister sputtered. Robert was unfazed by their reaction. "Oh, if that's not enough, there's more!" And he turned around, showing his back, which was as muscled as the chest, but with an original set of scars; some of them appeared to be scarring made by regular flogging, but others were small and circular, spaced and lined perfectly. "Quite a show, huh?" Robert said plainly, turning around to face them. Kingsley at last found the voice to talk. "What in Merlin's name caused that?" The scarred wizard shrugged and sighed : "Well, Minister, I'm not sure if you're familiar with the ancient practice of the _Beleach dar_ _dàta pian_." "The Way of the Pain? The ancient teachings to make a young wizard growing up powerful and with much knowledge of hidden things? But I thought it was banned long ago, because of their ruthless methods, which were nothing short of torture!" spoke up Hermione. Robert nodded and said : "Yep, that's it; and nothing short of torture can be defined what I passed for seven years of my life. Because it was 'officially' disbanded, but in secret, the _M__àistri dar dàta cumhacht_ continued to teach young wizards how to become strong and tough... my family had quite a tradition of sending its most skilled younglings to be trained in such a way. My father was... and so was I!" "That's terrible!" said Arthur, aghast. "Yes, it is. And I think it would be better if I talked you about that!" Sitting up in an empty chair, while Ron and Horace leaned against the wall, grimacing, because they already knew that part of the history and really didn't like it, he began while taking on his shirt : "It began when I was eight; my father had just returned from the final battle against Erich Rommell, and I had merely the time to recognize how badly he had been shaken by that experience, before he told me it was time to me to begin my training. Of course, he couldn't tell me the details of what I would be submitted to, but I would have accepted anyway, because it was the only way to reach the power level needed to fight things like that; and my father was sure Rommell would return. So he sent me in Ireland, when I met my master. He had been trained with my father, and was the last true _Màistr dar dàta cumhacht. _He had quite a method to bring out the hidden strength from a pupil... a spell that has the same effect of a hot iron, only enhanced. Then, whenever I couldn't do exactly what he wanted, he used to fling at me a screw." He stopped, then continued with a low voice : "Did you ever try to do anything with a screw planted in your back? Don't. When I got the first one, I wanted to die : every move I did, every breath I took, I felt that piece of iron lodged in my back, not long enough to debilitate me or impede me, but the pain never went away. I almost got used to that, but you can't get accustomed to pain, no matter how much you suffer. Well, to make things brief, I trained like that until I was fifteen. Then, my master felt I was ready, and challenged me to the _D__ùshlàn marfach_, the Lethal Challenge; it's the only way to be judged worthy and complete the training. The master and the apprentice fight using the techniques they have practised, and the duel only ends when one of them dies. If it's the apprentice, then the master looks for another pupil; if it's the master, then the apprentice can claim the title of _M__àistr dar dàta cumhacht _and can decide whether to stay and train others, or leave and do what he wants to do. My master fought me with everything he had got, and nearly overpowered and killed me; but at the last moment, I put all my hatred and rage in a single spell, and I defeated him. He lived long enough to tell me he was proud of what he had created with my training, and to tell me I had it hardest because I had an awesome potential. Then, I left, leaving behind his corpse to be fed to the wild beast, according to traditions."

Silence followed these words. "What did you do with the... with the screws?" asked Arthur. Robert shrugged. "As long as I was training, I couldn't remove them because they were tied to my master's lifeforce. After he died, I used a spell to remove them, but I left the scars." "Why?" asked the Minister. It was Horace to answer him : "Because, Minister, as with his father, what he passed in those years played an enormous role in defining what he is now." "Yes, it did. Of course, I'm glad the tradition died down with me, but I have to admit it had some advantages; first of all, I already passed through hundreds of hells, so now my skin is virtually whip-proof. Second, it didn't exactly boost my powers, but it allows me to use them more efficiently; the average wizards uses up normally more or less 30% of their power; I can use up to 80%, and under dire conditions, I would be able to use all of my strength. It comes quite in handy!"

Now Ronald spoke up; he stepped forwards and said : "You see, Minister, he has quite a motive to want autonomy in hunting those Dark Wizards. He knows how to beat them; Horace remembers how to fight at his side, and I'm learning fast. I've learned lots of things in those months, and, modesty forbids, I'm convinced we have the best shot at tracking down and defeating Rommell. We are confident in our strength and in our abilities; the question is, are you confident in us?" Another time, silence crept up as the Minister rubbed his chin, thoughtfully. No one spoke. At last, he banged his fist on the table, and said : "Ok, I think I stand corrected. You'll have complete jurisdiction about this affair. And the Auror Department will run no more interference!" The three Rangers nodded, while everyone relaxed. "At one condition." Kingsley added, and Robert, now completely calm, said : "What condition, Minister?" "All your prisoners, you will be able to interrogate them... interrogate them, not torture them or things as such, but then you shall have to hand them over to the Aurors or to other Ministry officials before twenty-four hours!" "No problem here. It's just fair!" Robert shrugged.

But Shacklebolt had another thing to say. "And, Mr. Walshingham... the next time you speak in such a way to me... let's just say the next days would not be pleasant for you!" The tall wizards, busy fixing his cloak under his chin, chuckled : "Don't worry, sir. Now that everything is settled, I shalt be your most faithful servant. You have the word of Robert G. Walshingham!"

* * *

Well, sorry for the most gruesome parts, but I think they explain a lot of things. Hope you enjoyed!

P.S. : my Gaelic is horrible, so please don't hate me if I screwed up!


	3. Chapter 3

I remember I don't own anything here but my character.

Chapter Three : Findings

_Bristol, 7th June 2001_

"So, are you telling me that the place was empty?" Dawlish grimaced, but it was hard to tell if it was for what he was about to say, or for the fact he didn't like at all the job of contact between the Highland Rangers and the Aurors. "Yeah. Empty, not considering this!" And he showed a piece of parchment. The line scribbled on it was in German. "What that means?" Ronald asked, a little curious. Robert said plainly : "It's a comment about how we use our asses!" Horace chuckled besides himself. Dawlish swore : "Damn it all! Third tip-off you give us, third failure! How is it possible!" Ronald commented : "I smell a rat here!" "Yep, that's it. The Ministry has a mole, of course. I'd be rather surprised if they hadn't some. Question is, how the hell is he able to know our moves so good?" Robert exclaimed.

Silence ensued. Then, Dawlish spoke up, standing. "Well, I have to go. Had to tell you guys this, and then go back. But I have to tell you, Robards is adamant on thinking it's not one of us... and not one of you, either!" "How tremendously nice of him!" Horace quipped suavely. Robert stopped the reply of the Auror by quickly saying : "Thanks a lot, Dawlish. We'll contact you!"

As the unfortunate wizard was out of the flat, one of the many safehouses established thanks to the Walshingham wealth, Ron sighed : "We got quite a problem. From what had happened, I'd tell our mole is well-informed. We have to cut him out, and fast!" "Indeed. I'm not even going to ask the Big H question." Horace nodded enthusiastically.

Their field leader was rubbing his chin, thinking deeply. At last, he threw down his arms and sighed. "I'll guess we'll have to follow plan C-4!" The aged Potions master and the young redhead both went up at godspeed. "What?" The latter asked indignantly. "Look, I know it's a desperate measure..." "Desperate? It's quite suicidal! We go get that Kirchenwald bloke, we lose our prime source of intelligence! A lot of what we accomplished was because of him! We can't lose it!" Bob huffed and crossed his arms. "I'm perfectly aware of that. But have you thought he's probably the only one we can lay a finger on in our present situation, and the only one who 100% probability knows the identity of our li'l mole here?" "I understand that. But Ron may be right : Kirchenwald gave us an inside look on their plans. Is it wise to lose him this early?" Horace asked, doubtful. Ron glared at him, still fuming. "I think it's worth the loss. Our information is of little value if the Ministry is not secure from enemy intel. And you know that, Red!" When he started to use nicknames, he was always going to full leader mode. The young Weasley sustained his gaze some seconds more, then he lowered his eyes. "Alright, alright. But don't come whining to me when we're going to know absolutely nothing about the enemy!"

_The Burrow, 10th June 2001_

"Charlie, dear, could you bring me the spoons?" Mrs Weasley's voice echoed in the garden, as she was busy preparing the table for lunch. Her lunches were always quite a masterpiece, but from two days she was busier than ever. Not only Bill and Fleur were coming for lunch every day, taking with them Gabrielle, currently in England for a stage at the Ministry; but the Delacours had come to visit them, so she was constantly fumbling around.

The family was scattered here and there : Harry, Ginny and Hermione were laughing near the door, Arthur was helping George with the gnomes, Bill was being besieged by Monsieur Delacour, a stream of French words barreling out of his mouth, while Fleur was completely oblivious to his ordeal, talking enthusiastically to her mother.

Mrs Weasley glanced around : Percy was with Gabrielle, a little more far away from the house, but he looked somewhat in trouble. She eyed more carefully, curious, and she noticed that Fleur's sister looked... serious. That was puzzling, as she had always been a cheerful and bright young girl; but even as she was now fourteen, she didn't look at all as a quarter-Veela young witch should; it was plain that she was listening to Percy's clumsy attempt at making conversation out of pure courtesy... or was it just boredom?

Her thoughts were interrupted when three figures appeared far away, walking towards the Burrow. Arthur looked at them, and exclaimed : "Hey, it's Ronald, with Slughorn and Walshingham!" "Ron?" said Hermione, running near to him, and then breaking in a huge smile. "Yes, it's him! Oh, I can't wait to ask him what he has done since last time!" The rest of the family reacted accordingly : even if Ron tried to visit as many times as he could, together with his two teammates, it wasn't nearly enough for a loving family. But even as she quickly prepared the table for three more, Mrs Weasley couldn't help but notice that Gabrielle was seemingly putting on a fake smile, just to not look a spoilsport.

"Hello, son! You look great!" said the elder Weasley as he hugged his son. Ron merely smiled, as he hugged in turn the rest of his family. As presentations were over, his mother asked nonchalantly : "I've made room for three more. You'll stay for lunch, won't you?" Robert looked at her, confused. "Why are you asking that? We are not crazy!" A roar of laughter soon followed, and a happy meal went on, with lots of conversations going by. Yet, Mrs Weasley's keen eye noticed that Gabrielle merely picked at her food, and she didn't look interested at all in what was being said.

"As I told you, we've been trying to find the mole the Purifiers have in the Ministry. We catch it, we're good!" Ron said, after shoving a mouthful of pudding in his mouth. "But who can be so well informed?" inquired Arthur, looking worried. Robert looked at him and said : "Well, that was our question, too, so we went after some of their numbers, to try and extract a name from them. It took some time, but at least we got our name!" He suddenly stopped, waited a second, then he went on : "And I can say it was a true shocker. We could hardly believe him, because what he said is that..."

"MERDE!" Time seemed to go slower as Gabrielle shot up from her chair, and with a wand taken out from a hidden place in her vest she shot a curse at Walshingham. He didn't flinch, and with a fluid move with his wand he easily blocked the attack. "Waiting for your shot, kid!" Without no more warning, his wand slashed the air, and the young girl was sent flying, and landed with little grace on the ground.

All but the Rangers were struck speechless, and unable to move, as Robert went closer to her, snatched the wand before she could laid her hand over it, gave it to Ron, and with a rude gesture he made her shirt's first button pop off. His face went dark as, just over the top end of the sternum, a black tattoo clashed with her milk-white skin : a cross whose vertical line extended to form a P.

"The Purifiers's symbol." Robert said lowly. He looked very glum. "What did you do?" he asked Gabrielle, in French. She looked at him with contempt and disgust. Then she muttered : "Just a combination of parents too proud of their eldest daughter to care for the youngest one, and an epiphany. About the truth that there is people destined to lead... and people who has to be subjected!" The gaze of her blue eyes couldn't be a more appropriated companion to her words.

Robert sighed, then he muttered an "Incarcerous!" before turning to face the upset face of M. Delacour. "This has to be a mistake! My daughter is not guilty of what you accuse her! There has to be an explanation! I'm confident...!" The rambling in French was cut short by Gabrielle's sneer. "Stop that! This is all your fault, at least be a man!" The Frenchman looked at her daughter with wide eyes, incapable of uttering word. The Rangers looked at him compassionately : his world had just been shattered.

At last, Robert spoke up. "I'm truly sorry, but the tattoo confirms what our prisoner told us. The mole is Gabrielle : she had full clearance for the Ministry, and as people thought she was okay, as Bill's sister-in-law, they didn't notice that she saw classified information. She advised Rommell, and thwarted our plans. There's no doubt possible." He turned again, because he was finding increasingly hard to look in the eyes the devastated and stunned men and women, and looking at his prisoner, he asked : "What are your master's plans?" She replied with a curt : "I don't remember!" "We'll see about that!" he murmured, and his eyes went as hard as diamond as he used his Legilimency skills to pierce her mind's barriers and reach through her most hidden secrets.

When he looked up, he was very serious. "We have a big problem. She," and he pointed to the struggling French witch, "is far better informed that I thought. So, they're attempting a mass breakout at Azkaban. In about... half an hour!" "What? We have to alert Kingsley and Robards at once!" Ron yelled, surprise leaving room for decision. Horace didn't even wait for the order, and took out the Two-way Mirror they used to communicate with the Chief Auror, and called : "Gawain Robards!" Instantly, the sharp face of Robards appeared. "We caught the mole; it was Gabrielle Delacour... NO, please don't interrupt, there's no time! Robert used Legilimency on her, and he found out they're going to attempt a mass breakout from Azkaban, more or less in half an hour!" Horace said quickly. The shock transpired in Robards's anguished reply. "What? Oh, sweet Merlin, what can we do? My boys are mostly scattered, it will take me a while to reassemble them. We won't make in time to prevent it!" Robert swore under his breath, then he took the mirror and said : "Okay, maybe we won't be able to prevent it, but I'm confident we can limit the number of escapees. I'm sending Ronald with Gabrielle to the Ministry, for further interrogation. Horace and myself will sped to Azkaban and... we'll do our utmost!" "Are you sure it's a good idea? They are going to go there in numbers; the two of you will be..." "I know, I know, it's dangerous, but what choice do we have? Don't worry, we have no intention of letting those creeps kill us! Just get moving, and godspeed, Gawain! Over." And with that, he broke the link. He lifted his head, and everyone was impressed with the hidden fire of his blue eyes. "Very well, that's it. As I said, Red, you'll have to get Gabrielle to the Ministry, and quickly, before the Purifiers get the news! Ace and I will get there and blunt their plans! Everything clear?" "Crystal!" replied Ron, curtly. "Wait, we are coming too!" quipped in Harry. Robert looked at him and said sternly : "No way. You'll stay here, that's not an option!" "What? For your information, I passed a lot of time fighting..." said Harry indignantly, but the tall Wizards interrupted him abruptly : "... Death Eaters, I know, the problem being that these are not Death Eaters; these guys are not fighting individually, they have been training for ages to fight as a team. They're a lot more dangerous that Voldemort's cronies, and the difference between us and you guys it's that we know how to fight 'em and we are trained to do that; you haven't." The looks on their faces was less than complying, until Arthur spoke up. "I think he is right. He says we would be a liability, I trust him. Let's leave this to professionals." "Thank you, Arthur. Now, if you don't mind, we have a breakout to mess up! Let's go!"

With that, Robert and Horace ran for the limit of the Anti-Disapparition Jinx still in place on the Burrow, followed by Ronald, with the still imprisoned Gabrielle levitating behind him. In no time, they reached the outward fields, and Disapparated, leaving behind a worried and still shocked family, a broken one, and a half-eaten pudding.

_Azkaban, about thirty minutes later_

As much as the Highland Rangers's Apparition range had improved together with all their magical abilities, they weren't on time as they came on the nameless island that hosted the dark prison of Azkaban. Of course, given that the Anti-Apparition Jinx on the island had forbidden them to Apparate directly on it, they had been forced to apparate on the nearest Scottish island and then proceed on brooms. And even if the custom-made Thunderstorm X3 brooms were well-suited for flying at incredible speed in the worst conditions imaginable, they found out the attack was already in-progress.

About forty Dark wizards, clad in dark hoods, swarmed everywhere, fighting fiercely with the guards. As much as they were the upper crust of the Aurors, they couldn't resist such a determined attack. Most of them were already defeated and injured, or even dead. The few still standing kept battling, however, in a remarkable gallant last stand.

"Here goes nothing! Let's use Plan Double B 4!** _F__Á_**_**GH AN BELEACH****!**_" Robert roared, the Irish-originated battle cry of the Highland Rangers (chosen by his father) echoing everywhere as the two powerful wizards jumped from their brooms, right in the middle of the wild melee. The Purifiers, all of whom the elite of the followers of Erich Rommell, wasted no time on redirecting the focus of their attack from the guards to the Rangers; but they grimly found out it was not nearly enough.

Robert and Horace were really fighting as one; back-to-back, they moved around in large circles, each providing cover for the other; they were blasting away spell after spell with such success that their enemies understood it was impossible to regroup and crush them with numbers. Robert was in charge of the 'tactical' specialty : moving faster than his comrade, he was firing quick and nifty spells to disarm, repulse, throw away and confuse the Dark Wizards who were too close or too bold for his liking, thus preventing surprises. Horace, on his side, was the 'strategic' master : lacking with speed, he exploited fully his power, his spells taking longer to charge and fire than Robert's, but the result was considerably more devastating; thus he concentrated on large groups, usually scattering them and preventing a coordinated effort. This superb mixture, thanks to a long and strenuous training, was succeeding in permitting Ace and Fatty to engage such enemy numbers; unfortunately, it was designed to hold the enemy, waiting for reinforcements. And this time, holding the enemy in check was not helping in their quest.

"The inmates are out! Time is running out!" Fatty yelled over the noise, without stopping the rhythm. "Damn! Then, there's only one thing to do; let's make a good all-in, Fatty!" Ace replied. "Ok, I take it. Count!" "One... Two... THREE!" An indigo curse flashed, and a huge explosion shattered the wall of the prison, debris flying everywhere. As the Purifiers reeled in shock, the Rangers sprang into action : running towards the previous hole made by the enemy, they blasted out of their way the Dark Wizards on their paths, and when they got in range, they fired all the spells they could in the middle of the escapees. "STUPEFY! INCARCEROUS! IMPEDIMENTA! BOMBARDA!" Robert thundered. But after a few seconds, they were both forced to stall their attack and defend themselves, as the Purifiers had recovered from the shock. Now pinned against the collapsed wall, they relied on their agility and their protective charms to evade the incoming attacks. "This way we can't hold them forever!" the sweating Potion master commented loudly, him having the hardest time due to his large girth. Robert looked up at the clouded sky and smiled. "Hold your guts, the cavalry's coming!"

And indeed, at last Gawain Robards arrived with thirty Aurors, the bulk of his strike force, and the battle was now even. But just then, the Purifiers made their run for it, jumping on their brooms. Robert and Horace ran out trying to take out as many creeps as they could. Four went down, but the others fled. And Robards's attempt to pursue ended when their hooded leader proclaimed : "NOX PERPETUA!" A huge wall of pure darkness swallowed the Aurors; incapable of holding on their bearings in that black nowhere, they were forced to desist.

"You okay, Fatty?" "I'm all right. Some curses flew a little too close for my liking, but it's not a big deal!" The two wizards looked around; apart from the Prison having taken serious damage, at least forty-seven of the sixty guards that made the garrison had been felled. And just twenty-two of them were still breathing. As he went down, Robards's face went sorrowful. "I knew most of them; they were good men... and great friends!" With sincere compassion, Robert put a hand on his shoulder. "I'm sorry we couldn't get here any faster; we did our best." "I don't blame you. But next time we met the Purifiers, I may have some words to tell them!" the Auror said, his eyes blazing.

The count of the escapees, however, was quite positive. It was particularly feared that the most dangerous followers of the Dark Lord, like Dolohov, Rabastan Lestrange, Travers and Yaxley would be set free and would join the Purifiers, adding their fearsome abilities to their already impressive power set. But of these, only Dolohov and Travers had managed to escape, together with some minor ones like Thorfinn Rowle, Macnair and Rookwood. Yaxley had been taken out cold by one of their spells, while the remaining Lestrange apparently had been just behind the wall Robert had blasted.

"Well, the result is not that bad. Even if we count our losses, just two first-line Death Eaters made it, in all eight really dangerous black-hooded baddies; and six Purifiers bit dust." commented Walshingham, a little bit more satisfied. Robards nodded, saying : "You guys did a great job. They would have met with complete success, without you discovering it and running here!" Horace waved his hand, exclaiming in mock modesty : "Aww, enough compliments, you're making me blush!" A laughter escaped the three men, but then, a broom with a tall redhead landed near them.

"Red! Is everything alright?" Robert asked worriedly, because Ronald looked like he'd been to Hell and back. He shook his head, clutching his forefront, on which a large cut reddened his face with blood. "No, it all went wrong. Now it's all clear, but how could we imagine then that Gabrielle's necklace – have you noticed it? - allowed her to communicate with Rommell's lackeys?" Horace closed his eyes, sighing. "Don't tell me..." "I'm telling you, that as I Apparated in a field, on my way to the Ministry, they were already there. I was lucky enough, they couldn't finish me off at once, so I was able to run for cover and then fight back. At least eight of them – there were at least fifteen bastards – are not going to fight anymore for at least a month, but with numbers against me, no reinforcements coming, I was forced to stay on the defensive, so they freed Gabrielle and left in a hurry. I went to the Ministry, it was like a disturbed anthill, I explained everything to Kingsley, and then I went here to tell you. I'm sorry, Bob,..." His excuses were cut short by Robert. "Don't worry, you did your best. It's not your fault if she's gone. At least we blocked that source of intel, and that's what counts." Horace chuckled a bit : "I want to be there when you're going to explain that to Monsieur Delacour!" The leader of the team sighed and rubbed his eyes. "I'll worry about that tomorrow. Now, I'm just worrying about getting a good sleep's night." But he looked quite worried. Robards noticed, and asked : "What's wrong?" The gaze that answered it was full of doubtfulness. "When I looked into Gabrielle's eyes and mind, all I could sense was darkness... she didn't join them because they blackmailed her, or because a temporary weakness... she joined because she is convinced Rommell is right." Walshingham looked at his two friends, equally worried, and said in a low voice : "If our enemy's reach is able to turn such a girl... if he is able to do such a thing, I'm afraid the odds in our favor are somewhat less than I thought."

The silence that followed was the reluctant confirmation he didn't need.

* * *

Okay, if someone wants to shoot me or something because I made Gabrielle a villain, be my guest. It's not like I hate her, I just wanted a little drama; and there is no better drama than finding out that someone above suspicion is a baddie!

There was a lot of action here, but don't worry, there'll be plenty of other things in the next chapters!


End file.
